Not His Type (An Opposites Attract Romance)

by Lisa Crane

  “Mom, I told you I was bringing Brooke,” Travis said, giving a nervous little chuckle. “Remember?”

  “You told me you were bringing your neighbor, dear,” she said quietly. She glanced over her shoulder.

  Brooke wanted to sink through the floor and disappear. Mr. and Mrs. Cooper obviously hadn’t expected her, and it appeared they didn’t really want her here. Brooke wondered silently if the day could possibly get any worse. The thought was barely formed in her mind when she heard a sultry voice drawl Travis’ name.

  “Travis, look who I ran into yesterday!” another woman said. Her smile slipped a bit when she spotted Brooke standing beside Travis.

  “Lorna,” Travis said, his tone even.

  Travis’ middle sister, Leah, had introduced him to Lorna. She still couldn’t believe her attempt at matchmaking had failed; when she’d run into Lorna Morgan in a little shop two days ago, the redhead had mentioned her date with Travis the previous Friday. Leah had immediately seized the opportunity to further her matchmaking efforts, and invited Lorna to join her family for Thanksgiving dinner. Now her gaze shifted from her younger brother, to her friend Lorna, to the petite brunette who looked decidedly uncomfortable.

  “Leah, this is my friend, Brooke,” Travis said, his eyes slightly narrowed at his sister. “Brooke, my sister Leah and her friend, Lorna.”

  “Did I hear Travis?” another voice called. The owner of the voice entered the kitchen from a second door. “Travis, did you see who’s here? Leah brought – oh! Hello!”

  More introductions followed. Brooke continued to smile awkwardly as she met Travis’ other two sisters, Nina and Tracey. The women all continued to gape at Brooke until his mother suddenly seemed to recover. She smiled warmly at Brooke.

  “We’re so glad you could join us, dear,” she said sincerely. “Travis, why don’t you get Brooke something to drink and take her to watch the game with you and the men.”

  “Oh, isn’t there anything I can do to help in here?” Brooke asked. The last thing she wanted to do was spend another minute in this kitchen with all these women; however, she didn’t want Travis’ mother to think she was the sort of woman who’d just show up and not offer to help.

  “Are you sure?” Travis asked, his voice low. Brooke nodded and gave him a little smile. Travis pointed back in the direction where they’d come. “I’ll be right through there. Just follow the sounds of the football game.”

  Chapter 30

  A few minutes later, Brooke was busily cutting up sweet potatoes. Travis’ oldest sister, Nina, made a face.

  “I don’t know why you bother with those every year, Mom,” she said. “Nobody likes them.”

  “Well, you’re supposed to have them at Thanksgiving,” Allison replied. “I just don’t know what to do with them, other than baking them or…something.” She looked at Brooke. “What would you do with them, Brooke?”

  Brooke smiled; this was her comfort zone. She might have worked at a greasy spoon and a fast food restaurant, but she’d taught herself to cook at a young age. It was either learn to cook or continue eating her grandfather’s charred offerings every night.

  “I’ll need butter, cinnamon, brown sugar and an orange, if you have one,” Brooke said.

  “I have all of those things,” Allison said, turning to get them.

  “No marshmallows?” Lorna drawled. She gave Leah a little smirk. “Funny, you look like a marshmallow sort of girl to me.”

  Brooke ignored the comment. She continued working, melting butter and brown sugar together in a cast iron skillet. She put the sweet potatoes in and added cinnamon and the zest from the orange. Satisfied the dish was coming along nicely, she turned and smiled at Mrs. Cooper.

  “I’ll just need to stir those occasionally,” Brooke said. “Is there anything else I can do?”

  “How are you at gravy?” Allison asked, her blue eyes, very like those of her son, narrowed slightly.

  “I’m fairly handy with a gravy boat,” Brooke answered, smiling slightly.

  “Well, that explains a lot, doesn’t it?” Lorna asked, not quite under her breath so everyone in the kitchen heard it.

  Brooke’s cheeks burned, but once again, she refused to respond to the redhead’s hateful comments. Instead, she asked Allison for the things she’d need to make gravy.

  “But how soon will dinner be ready?” Brooke asked. “If we make it too early, the gravy will get thick.”

  “Oh, well in that case, we have time to go sit with the men for a bit,” Tracey said. “Let’s go play a game or something.”

  The six women all trekked into the den where the men were watching a football game. Brooke was introduced again, this time to Travis’ brothers-in-law, one of whom smirked at Travis, his eyes going from Lorna to Brooke. Ignoring the look, Travis sat down and was about to pull Brooke down beside him when Lorna wedged herself into the space next to him. Brooke was left standing awkwardly as everyone else sat.

  Giving Lorna a little frown, Travis rose. He turned and faced his sister, Leah, giving her a very pointed look.

  “Leah, why don’t you sit over here beside Lorna,” he suggested, “since she’s your guest, after all?” He smiled. “That way, I can sit with my guest.”

  A few minutes later, Brooke found herself seated in a comfortable wingback chair. Heedless of his dark gray slacks, Travis sat on the floor at her feet, one muscular arm resting casually on one of Brooke’s knees. Lorna sat across the den and glared at Brooke, who was so distracted by the warmth of the large man next to her she didn’t care if Lorna danced naked on the coffee table.

  Tracey returned to the den with an armful of games. After much discussion, they finally settled on Pictionary. They divided the room into two teams and then set about trying to decide which team would go first.

  “How about by birthdays?” a nephew asked as he walked through the room. “That’s how we do it in Scouts. The next birthday goes first.”

  “Well, then, that’d be my team,” Travis said. “January wins!”

  “My birthday is in January,” Brooke said, surprised.

  “Really? What day?”

  “The twentieth,” she answered.

  “That’s my birthday!” Travis said. He grinned up at her. “Maybe we can celebrate together.”

  “Well, since you’re on the same team, it doesn’t really matter, does it?” Lorna snapped. Her green eyes flashed at Brooke.

  Brooke smiled inwardly, thinking she should probably tell the pretty redhead that Travis had less than no interest in Brooke, if that were possible. Maybe she should trade seats with Lorna. That would probably thrill the other woman, especially since Travis was now leaning fully against Brooke’s leg, one arm draped casually over both her knees so his hand dangled down along her calf; occasionally, his warm fingers would stroke her leg, sending a little shiver racing along her skin. Brooke wondered if he was even aware of what he was doing; more importantly, she wondered if he knew what it was doing to her?

  The game began and before long, Brooke was laughing helplessly at the antics of Travis and his family. They were extremely competitive with each other, booing, hissing and making other rude noises at the opposite team. Then suddenly it was Brooke’s turn to draw.

  She rose, smoothing her dress down and drew a card from the box; she looked at the word on the card and gave a small smile. She nodded at Wilson, who started the timer. Quickly, Brooke drew two wavy lines, side by side. Next she sketched a small animal with long ears, followed by another small item. Everyone murmured various guesses, frowning curiously. Brooke stared directly, pointedly, at Travis; suddenly, he snapped his fingers.

  “Brook!” he shouted, laughing.

  “Yes!” she giggled.

  “What?” Nina’s husband, Rick asked. “What did we miss?”

  “Brook,” Travis repeated. “That’s the answer. Brook, like a stream.”

  “How did you get that out of those pictures?” Tracey’s husband, Jonathan demanded, laughing. “N
ot that I mind, since we’re on the same team!”

  “What are those things?” Lorna asked in a condescending tone.

  Pointing at the big pad of paper, Travis said, “That one is a brook. That one is a bunny. And that one is a cupcake.” He gave Brooke a little wink and a grin. “It’s kind of an inside joke.”

  “Oh, that’s right,” Lorna said. “She’s the little baker’s helper, isn’t she?”

  “Sure,” Travis said, giving Lorna a little smirk she didn’t understand. “Yeah, that’s exactly why I call Brooke Cupcake.”

  Blushing, Brooke resumed her seat in the chair behind Travis. He leaned back against her legs again. As Brooke smoothed her skirt down, she heard a gasp; turning, she saw Allison Cooper staring at the scar visible below the hem of Brooke’s skirt. Brooke tugged at her dress self-consciously.

  “Ooh,” Lorna said. “In this day and age, you’d think doctors could do better work, wouldn’t you? I can’t imagine having such an ugly scar!”

  “I think the doctors were more concerned with saving her life,” Travis drawled. “Cosmetics were pretty low on the priority list.” He smiled at Brooke. “Besides, now we have matching scars.”

  “We know how you got yours, Travis,” Tracey said. She looked at Brooke. “Do you mind telling us how you got yours, Brooke?”

  “Ha!” Travis snorted. “I’ll tell you, since it was indirectly my fault. And if Brooke tells it, she’ll downplay how serious it was.”

  Brooke rose, saying, “I’ll just go check on the sweet potatoes.” She glanced at Allison. “Would you like me to check on everything while I’m in the kitchen?”

  “Oh, would you mind?” Travis’ mother asked, beaming. “I want to hear this, and you’re obviously much better in the kitchen than I am, anyway!”

  “Not at all,” Brooke answered. “I’m happy to help.”

  Brooke went to the kitchen and began checking on dinner. She could hear the deep sound of Travis’ voice, but not his words. That was fine with her, as she knew exactly how she’d gotten that scar.

  Chapter 31

  Brooke had been in the kitchen for several minutes before she realized she wasn’t alone. She glanced over her shoulder to find Lorna Morgan watching her speculatively. Brooke turned fully to face the other woman; she smiled politely.

  “Can I help you, Lorna?” Brooke asked. “Or did you come to help?”

  “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing, little miss cupcake!” Lorna hissed. “In here playing little Susie Homemaker! Do you think Travis is so stupid he’d be fooled by this little ploy to ingratiate yourself?”

  “I’m – sorry?”

  Brooke was shocked. While the looks the redhead had been casting her way all day had made her feelings clear, Brooke hadn’t expected to be directly confronted, much less verbally attacked!

  “Please! You can cut the act! You’re smart, I’ll give you that. Playing up to Travis’ mother is a great way to score points. But at the end of the day, dear, I look like this.” Lorna gestured at herself, clad in a sleek black sweater dress, every lock of her fiery hair in place, her legs made to look even longer by the stilettos she wore. Then she tossed a disdainful look at Brooke. “And you look like…well…you.”

  “Lorna, I think my Mom’s looking for you,” a young man drawled coolly from the kitchen doorway.

  Lorna glared at the teenager and left the kitchen in a huff. Brooke smiled at the young man.

  “So who should I thank for rescuing me?” she asked. “I don’t think we’ve met yet.”

  “I’m Taylor,” he answered, extending a hand. “The evil red-haired one is my mother’s best friend. Apparently, the two of them still think there’s a chance Uncle Travis will lose his mind and marry Lorna.” He sat on a stool at the island and bit into a carrot stick; he grimaced at the vegetable and laid it back down on the island. “I think you being here has seriously rattled some cages.”

  “I didn’t mean to cause anyone to be upset,” Brooke said seriously.

  “Please,” Taylor drawled, chuckling. “Nobody but Mom and Lorna actually think there’s a chance for that to happen! And nobody but them want it to happen!”

  “You do know your Uncle Travis and I are just friends, right?” Brooke said wryly. She put a spoon in his hand. “Make yourself useful and come stir.”

  Taylor moved to stand beside Brooke, stirring the gravy as she instructed. He glanced sideways at her.

  “So you two are just friends?” he asked.

  “Yep. Good friends, but just friends.”

  Taylor stopped stirring and stared at Brooke. She returned his look for a moment, then continued working.

  “Are you serious?” Taylor asked incredulously. “Do you think I’m just some stupid teenager? I’m nineteen; that doesn’t mean I’m an idiot.”

  “What?” Brooke asked. “Why would you think I believe you’re stupid?”

  “Because only a moron would buy that ‘we’re just friends’ baloney!”

  “We are just friends, Taylor,” she insisted. “Your uncle is way outta my league, kiddo.”

  “Well, kiddo,” Taylor replied mockingly. “My uncle was practically sitting in your lap out there! My uncle was rubbing your leg, for Pete’s sake!”

  “We. Are. Friends. End of story, Taylor.” Brooke bumped him aside with a hip and stirred the gravy. “Now why don’t you go tell your grandmother that everything seems to be ready?”

  Travis stood outside the kitchen, listening to every word that passed between his oldest nephew and Brooke Valentine. He closed his eyes briefly. Was the inexplicable desire he felt for his little neighbor so obvious? And had he really been rubbing her leg? He certainly hadn’t meant to do that!

  “Hey, Uncle Travis!”

  Travis opened his eyes to see Taylor looking at him, a knowing smirk on his handsome young face. His smirk broadened to a grin.

  “If you’re just friends,” Taylor said, “you won’t mind if I ask her out, right?”

  Travis merely growled at his nephew, causing the young man to laugh loudly as he walked away. Travis shook his head, annoyed with Taylor and with himself. He took a deep breath, pasted a smile on his face and walked into the kitchen…only to freeze in his tracks.

  Brook was bent over the oven, looking at the huge turkey. Her blue dress was stretched across her rear-end, hugging her curves; the hem had ridden up a few inches, revealing more of Brooke’s thighs. As she straightened, she shook her hair back from her face; it was such a simple gesture, and yet, the unintentional sensuality took Travis’ breath away as he watched her. As if sensing him behind her, Brooke suddenly turned and smiled at him.

  “Oh, Travis, I need you!” Brooke said.

  “I – uh…excuse me?” he stammered.

  “That turkey is huge!” she said. “I can’t get it out of the oven!”

  “Oh!” Travis said, finally drawing a normal breath again. “Yeah, sure, I can do that.” He smiled at her. “Although I don’t think Mom expected you to take over the whole dinner, you know. You’re a guest, Brooke.”

  “Oh, I didn’t mean – I just wanted to help!” Brooke said quickly.

  “No worries,” Travis said. “I didn’t mean it that way, Brooke.” He grinned wryly. “In case you hadn’t noticed, cooking isn’t really Mom’s strong suit. She might not have meant for you to take over, but I’m sure she’s glad you did!”

  “Are you sure?” she asked. “I don’t want to step on any toes.” She paused and arched one brow at him. “Especially if those toes are wearing a pair of black suede stiletto heels.”

  “What? Oh. Lorna.” Travis shook his head.

  “Did I hear my name?”

  Travis and Brooke both turned to see Lorna leaning against the doorframe, one hip cocked provocatively to the side. Brooke had to press her lips together to keep from giggling. She wouldn’t have been surprised if the other woman had whipped out a long-stemmed rose to clench between her teeth.

  “Hey, Lorna, did you come to
help with dinner?” Travis asked casually.

  “Hardly!” Lorna said, tossing a mocking look at Brooke; her gaze shifted back to Travis. “Do I look like the kind of woman who’d spend a lot of time sweating over a turkey?”

  Without a word, Travis took the two oven mitts from Brooke. He bent and pulled the roasting pan from the oven and set it on the island where Brooke had placed a thick towel. He winked at Brooke.

  “Anything else I can help with, Cupcake?”

  “Uh, let’s see what your mom says,” Brooke said. “This is her dinner, after all. I just figured she’d take the turkey out if she were in here.”

  “Or she’d let it keep cooking till it was dry as the Sahara,” Allison said sarcastically from the door. “Thank you for saving the day, Brooke.” She rolled her eyes at Travis. “Maybe we’ll have a decent meal this year.”

  Many hours, far too much food and several more games later, Travis and Brooke took their leave of the Cooper family. As the stood at the door saying their goodbyes, Allison hugged Brooke.

  “I’m so glad Travis brought you!” she said sincerely. “And not just because you seem to be an amazing cook! Please come back anytime, dear.”

  “Thank you for having me,” Brooke said politely, if a little shyly. “I enjoyed it very much.”

  “Yeah, come back next time without Uncle Travis!” Taylor teased, winking shamelessly at Brooke, who blushed and laughed.

  “If your mother weren’t standing right beside you,” Travis muttered in a threatening tone. He left the sentence unfinished and Taylor grinned.

  Suddenly a slender arm inserted itself between Travis and Brooke. The arm’s owner followed, edging Brooke aside. Lorna smiled seductively up at Travis, heedless of the other people surrounding them in the foyer.

  “Travis, don’t be a stranger,” she said. “We’ve only just reconnected. It would be a shame to lose each other again.” She turned to look at Brooke. “And you, too, little cupcake girl. We didn’t really get a chance to finish our little chat, did we?” She leaned closer and hissed, “This isn’t over!”